Proselytizing Robots Armed with Pamphlets

A missionary once said that one of the biggest challenges in her work was first convincing the people (the ones she was out to “bring to Jesus”) that they were basically scum who needed saving—these are my words, not the missionary’s. She worded it more nicely, but the meaning is the same. Then and only then, could they teach them that Jesus was the only savior who could do the job properly.

The idea of that always brings a grin to my lips and a chuckle from deep within. You see, I’ve had the pleasure of being perceived as a heathen who needed a-savin’—along with the rest of my family members as we sat in the front rows at our dad’s funeral. The minister--whom I had asked to be included in the service, out of a sense of heartfelt appreciation for him being with us when Mom died--had turned what was supposed to be a celebration of my dad’s life into a spectacle. He made it into an egotistical “testimony” of how the minister had basically, personally brought my dad to Jesus.

Each of us kids (in front of all the other attendees) was handed a little white booklet filled with a bunch of words about Jesus—I’m sure there was a scripture or two in there as well. Out of a sense of being shocked and awed, plus being polite as we all were, we quietly took them without making a scene. But frankly, if I had a do-over with that experience—I’d have a HELL of a LOT of FUN making a scene!

On the one-year anniversary of Dad’s death, I was walking around Lake Nokomis with my nephew’s girlfriend when we were approached by a young man with a fistful of little white missives, who asked us if we knew God loved us. I replied, “Yes—I know.” I looked him in the eye when I said it—and he understood that I wasn’t saying the words without meaning. I had a sense of Dad having a good chuckle at my expense—and it made me smile to myself.

I don’t like the idea of judging God’s work as poorly done—and when someone judges any one of His Children as being any less than themselves or any others—I get a little irate. Actually, I get a LOT IRATE—extremely pissed. And if my words offend—well, maybe they’ve served my purpose of using them for some shock and awe of my own.

Through the years I’ve been blessed with all kinds of experiences of people who literally wanted to get me to “buy into” their beliefs. Selling belief systems is a business, and don’t try to tell me that anyone who sends a collection plate around isn’t in some sort of business. I’m more inclined to stick my monetary abundance into an unmanned donation jar, than I am with a manned plate being passed around.

And God doesn’t give a crap about money—even Jesus said that, and frankly, I do like and admire and appreciate Jesus a great deal. He’s been a great inspiration and reminder to me of who I am—I just never needed a savior because God/Our Source did a good job from the beginning with all of us, and I won’t ever be “convinced” otherwise.

When I read Jesus’ words I don’t see someone interested in being a suffering, sacrificial savior—I see a Divine messenger in human form who was sharing new perspectives with his fellow beings. He was saying, “Let’s open up your boxes of limiting beliefs. Let’s consider this old idea from another angle, something with more depth and meaning. The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand—it’s right here with you, all the time. You just didn’t see it. You’ve forgotten how to see it, and self-doubt has taken the place of self-trust. You’ve taken a simple, straightforward idea and over-complicated it in your mind, and now you think you’re lost for good. But you’re not. And don’t trust anyone OUT THERE to have your own answers. Trust that God made you in His image in all ways.”

I’ve had people inviting me to their church activities—Bible studies, services—and I’ve had them ringing my doorbell handing me pamphlets and quoting scriptures AT me. They weren’t in the least bit interested in having a REAL and meaningful exchange with me from their heart. They were only interested in saying AT me all they’d memorized of the “tree of knowledge”—instead of sharing WITH me the tales of the real human (the one standing in front of me) who’d been on an amazing and unique journey.

I’m excited to hear all these amazing stories from my fellow progeny of God, and instead I hear nothing but a whole bunch of dry, meaningless mind chatter and “poor, pitiful me” and “saved wretch” stories—and gossip. I feel like I’m interacting with hypnotized robots with pasted on smiles saying syrupy words just going through the motions of living, but actually dead. Okay—maybe “dead” is a bit strong—how about “in a DEEP SLEEP?”

But I can see through the pretense—people can, you know. I once watched a man get down on his knees, and clasp his hands together in verbal, whining supplication to Jesus to enlighten his brother—all this was done in intentional, full-view of me and a few others. We’d all just observed the praying man come into his brother’s place of business and provoke the fight. My eyes rolled then with the absurdity of it, and they still do now. I’m thinking drama queen. And that makes me laugh.

I want to grab the sleepers who are pretending to be “born again” by the collars and make them look me in the eye, because I know there’s a REAL being in there somewhere, hiding away inside of them. Instead, in the past, I either got the “poor, poor, poor little human puppets on God’s string” version, or the one where someone was blaming all the other people in their lives for their sorry life conditions. But I’m done with that.

To give everyone fair warning—don’t come looking for pity from me. I’ll probably grab you by the collar and if I don’t get something REAL right away, I’ll send you packing. I’m interested in talking with people who are willing to take COMPASSIONATE and COMPLETE RESPONSIBILITY for every single moment and aspect of his/her life. You’re all someone to celebrate and if we’re relating with one another, that’s what I’m focusing on.

So—you just got a whole bunch of words from me, but you don’t have to buy any of it, nor are you required to read it. Such as I am…

With love…ME!